In Over Her Head
by Harliquinn
Summary: What connection does Tori have with a dead Navy Lieutenant? Follows More Than She Can Chew. Warning: some chapters will contain the disciplinary spanking of a minor.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **What connection does Tori have with a dead Lieutenant ? Follows More Than She Can Chew. Warning: some chapters will contain the disciplinary spanking of a minor.

**Author's Note:** To all my readers who asked when I was going to follow up on More Than She Can Chew, I have to say there is at least one advantage of being home sick – I had time to finish writing this. I hope it's worth the wait.

**CHAPTER 1**

"I'll call you later," I said, leaning through the open passenger side window. I'd asked my friends, Lynn and Tracy, to drop me off at the corner instead of at home. I was late – by more than an hour past curfew – and car headlights in the driveway would make sneaking in a little more difficult that it was already going to be.

I studied the house as I made my way toward the front porch. I couldn't see any lights on, but that really didn't fool me. Gibbs was probably in the basement working on his latest project. Believe me, I'm fully aware that my chances of being able to sneak in past Gibbs are remote. It wouldn't be the first time he's caught me at it. Still, my night out with the girls was worth whatever punishment I might receive from my foster father.

I let myself into the front door. To my ears, the soft click that sounded when I closed the door echoed through the house like a gunshot. I stood listening for any sound that might give me a clue about Gibbs's whereabouts. When I didn't hear anything, I slowly and carefully made my way through the vestibule to the stairs and up to my room.

Sighing in relief, I flipped on the bedside lamp and nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Where have you been, young lady?"

I turned to see Gibbs sitting the armchair in the corner of the room. I watched as he rose and came to stand in front of me, invading my personal space.

"Well?" he questioned shortly.

"The battery in Lynn's car was dead when we came out of the theater," I said, relating the story the three of us had agreed to tell, or at least the story Tracy and I were going to tell. Lynn's parents didn't care what she did as long as she didn't end up in trouble with the law. In fact, her older brother, Liam, took more of an interest in what she did than her parents. With all three of us telling the same story, the less likely we'd be caught out in the lie. Lynn was sure she could get Liam to go along as well.

"Why didn't you call?"

I shrugged, trying to act casually. "We called Lynn's brother. It took longer for him to get there than we'd anticipated. None of us realized how late it really was until we were almost here. "

"Uh huh," Gibbs stated skeptically. "You want to give me one good reason why I shouldn't blister your ass? While you're at it, you want to tell me the real reason you're more than an hour late? "

Shit, he hadn't believed a word I'd said. I was saved from having to answer by the ringing of his cell phone.

"Gibbs," he answered tersely as he stepped back. He may have given me some more space, but he glared at me the whole time he listened to whoever was on the other end of the call. "I'll be there in twenty." He flipped the phone closed and stared at me a long moment.

"This is far from finished, young lady. But, I've got a dead sailor to take care of. We will deal with this tomorrow after school." He left unsaid that he fully expected me to keep to our deal that when he got called out on a case, I'd be responsible enough to go school. Hell, I was already in enough trouble, I didn't need to add to it by playing hooky.

"Yes, sir," I have the respected response.

Gibbs studied me for a moment, probably trying to determine if my response was genuine or if I was being sarcastic. "Come straight to NCIS after school," he directed as he turned to leave.

"What've we got?" Gibbs demanded as he entered the alley behind a night club called "Toxic." The bass pulse of the music playing inside the club could be felt in the very air of the alley. He was pleased to see that the other members of his team had arrived before him. Turning at the sound of a vehicle, he watched as Ducky and Jimmy pulled up in the medical examiner's van.

McGee looked up from where he was squatting beside the body. "Fingerprints confirm his identity as Lieutenant Lane Carver." He held up the hand he had been holding to the portable fingerprint scanner. Stamped on the back of it in acid green ink and a stylized script was the night club's logo.

"A couple found him lying here about an hour ago," Ziva stated from where she was taking pictures. "They had come in here to . . . ," she trailed off.

"Get away from the noise?" Tony finished with a hint of a smirk in his voice. "They called the cops. When the local LEO's found his military ID, they called us." He gestured to the two uniformed officers who were standing several feet away. "The Lieutenant wasn't wearing his dog tags."

"Excuse us." Gibbs glanced over his shoulder to see Ducky and Palmer making their way through the growing throng of onlookers toward the corpse. Stepping aside to give the older man access to the body, he started to say something.

"I just got here, Gibbs. Give me time to at least examine the body before you start questioning me," Ducky stated shortly.

Gibbs grinned. "I was going to say you're dressing rather well for crime scene calls these days," he said taking in the older man's suit and tie.

"I was having dinner with a lady friend, if you must know." Ducky placed his bag on the ground near the Lieutenant 's body and began his examination. "Although, I do have to say, the call saved me from what was turning out to be a rather dull evening. I had thought that Genevieve would have been so much more interesting," he said, almost as an aside to himself.

Gibbs grinned briefly at Ducky's aside before turning to his team. "McGee, get a picture of this guy and come with me. DiNozzo, Ziva, I want you to interview the local LEO's and the two witnesses." He turned to walk through the crowd toward the entrance to the club. Tim quickly pulled his cell phone from his pocket. Using the phone's camera app, he took a picture of the corpse and quickly moved to catch up with his boss.

As they approached the entrance, both men watched as the door attendant spoke into his headset. They couldn't hear what was said, but by the time they reached the door, a man in a dark suit was waiting for them.

"Gentlemen, I am Rodrick Malloy, manager of Toxic," the man said as he stepped forward and held out his hand.

Gibbs glanced at Malloy's outstretched hand and, ignoring it, held up his badge and identification. "Special Agent Gibbs," he said in introduction. Including his head toward McGee, he continued, "this is Special Agent McGee. We're with NCIS . . . ."

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service, yes, I know." Malloy smiled at the momentary look of surprise that passed across Gibbs's face. A less observant man would have missed it completely. McGee, on the other hand, didn't hide his surprise very well. "I served as an MP at Fort Campbell several years ago," he said. "Now, what can I do for NCIS."

McGee called up the photograph of Lane Carver on his cell phone as he stepped forward. "Do you recognize this man?" he asked, turning the cell phone so that Malloy could see the screen.

"No, should I?"

"He's lying dead in the alley beside your club," Gibbs stated bluntly.

"Really," Malloy stated gravely. "I don't think I've ever seen him before. Do you have some reason to believe he was in my club?"

"He has your logo stamped on his hand. Seems pretty conclusive to me that he would have been inside those doors," Gibbs inclined his head toward the entrance, "some time tonight. Now, you can cooperate with us, or we can shut you down for however long it takes us to complete our investigation."

The expression on Malloy's face showed he was anything but happy about this turn of events. "What do you intend to do?"

"If you cooperate, we'll just talk to a few people tonight and get a copy of all of your security footage for the last twelve hours," Gibbs stated. "What we do after that depends on what we find during our investigation."

Malloy turned on his heel and, crooking his finger, motioned for the two agents to follow him to the door.

Gibbs was tired. It was nearly 3:00 in the morning before he let himself in the front door of his house. They had finished their investigation at the crime scene, and he had sent everyone home to get a couple hours of sleep before returning to NCIS at 7:00. While every case got his full, undivided attention, there was nothing turned up at the scene that indicated this was anything more than something directed at the Lieutenant . He knew from past experience that his team would be more effective if they had a little sleep.

As he climbed the stairs to the upper story of his house, Gibbs's thoughts turned to the other problem facing him – Tori. His gut told him that there was more to her breaking curfew than she'd let on. He couldn't even help but wonder if she and her friends were even at the movies, where they were supposed to be. Opening her bedroom door, Gibbs poked his head into the room. Tori was curled up in the middle of the bed, sound asleep. Whatever was going on would have to wait until she got home from school later in the day, as he would have to leave before she got up.

"How'd it go with Gibbs last night?" Tracy asked the moment I met up with her and Lynn in the student commons at school. "You manage to get past him?"

I shook my head. "He was waiting on me in my bedroom, and I don't think he bought the story about Lynn's car."

"Ouch!" Lynn said in sympathy. She had no idea how on target she was. Neither of my friends were aware of Gibbs's preferred form of discipline, but they knew he kept a pretty tight leash on me.

"Do you think he suspects?" Lynn didn't have to elaborate.

"I don't know," I said. "I tried to keep my hands pretty much out of view." I held out my right one. It held only the faintest trace of the stamp that had been on it the night before. The skin around it was a little raw from all the scrubbing and nail polish remover I'd used to get rid of it. I was hoping the last remnants would wear off before this afternoon.

"He got called out before we could really get into it, and he was gone before I got home. We're supposed to finish our discussion after school." I'd found a note on the refrigerator telling me in no uncertain terms that I was to go straight to NCIS after school. That never boded well, but Gibbs would usually wait until we got home to light into me. Most of the time, I'd end up sitting behind his desk studying or down in Abby's lab until it was time to leave.

"You don't think he'll call our parents, do you?" Tracy asked, a note of worry ringing in her voice. Her parents weren't quite as strict as Gibbs, but they were far from being as lenient as Lynn's folks.

The morning bell rang before I could answer, not that I really needed to. Both of my friends had learned the hard way that if Gibbs caught the three of us in serious trouble, he wouldn't hesitate to call their parents. I do have to say, though, he wasn't the only one. He'd gotten at least one such telephone call from Tracy's parents

Timothy McGee was so engrossed in the security surveillance he was reviewing that he didn't notice Anthony DiNozzo standing over him until the other man spoke. "Gibbs catches you watching that, you'll be in for it."

Tim paused the video before turning to look past his teammate to where Ziva had done the same thing. "We're watching surveillance footage from Toxic. Just what have you been doing?"

Before Tony could answer, Ziva interrupted. "I think you two need to see this." She punched a few keys on her computer keyboard and stood to move in front of the plasma screen. Using the remote, she pulled up the video she had been watching. The three agents watched as Lieutenant Lane Carver moved through the crowded dance floor to the bar. He ordered and received a drink, and turned to blend back into the crowd.

"What?" Tony asked. "We knew he'd been there. That's nothing new."

"Not that," Ziva stated. She started to point out what she had seen, but McGee stepped up and took the remote from her hand. He zoomed into an area at the far right of the screen and froze the video.

"What the hell is she doing there?" Tony demanded, taking a step forward so he could get a closer look. Yes, there was no mistaking the image frozen on the screen.

"I would say she is in over her neck in this one," Ziva commented.

"In over her head," McGee corrected her automatically. "The question is, which one of us is going to tell Gibbs?"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I really hadn't planned on taking the story in the direction started with this chapter, but I came across the idea for it while doing a bit of research, and it wouldn't let me go.

**CHAPTER 2**

"Is there a reason why you are all just standing around?" Gibbs demanded as he rounded the partition that separated his team's work area from the rest of the squad room. "Because I'm sure I can find work for you to do."

"Um," McGee hesitated before speaking. "We were watching the surveillance videos from the club." He stepped aside as the older man approached, waiting uneasily for the explosion that was sure to come as soon as Gibbs looked at the plasma screen.

All three team members winced at the look that crossed Gibbs's face the moment he spotted Tori and her friends in the footage. "Explain this," Gibbs demanded.

"Um . . . ."

"What McGee is trying so hard to not say is that while we were watching the surveillance footage, we spotted this," Ziva said, gesturing toward the screen. She instinctively took a step back from his boss when he turned to glare at her. She did not particularly want to be the victim of his unfortunate tendency to kill the messenger when he didn't like the news that was delivered.

Gibbs nodded and took a steadying breath to calm himself. His team weren't the ones who needed to face his temper over this newest development. No, he would deal with that little bit of information later. He had a murder to solve first. "Anything on our dead sailor?"

Tony took the remote from McGee and rewound the footage. "We have Lieutenant Carver at the bar. Although the video don't have sound, it appears he is ordering a drink and is chatting up some girls while he waits." He fast forwarded the video for several seconds before stopping to watch as the Lieutenant accepted his drink from the woman behind the bar and turned to make his way through the crowd. He moved past where Tori danced with her friends and disappeared out of frame.

Tony paused the video before turning to look at Gibbs. "We haven't yet had a chance to review the rest of the footage, so we don't know where he went from there. Based on the time stamp on the video and Ducky's preliminary time of death, this particular footage was taken about two hours before he died."

Gibbs turned to look at the three agents who comprised his investigative team. He could tell by the looks on their faces that they were waiting for him to say something about Tori being spotted in the club. Unfortunately, they were doomed to disappointment. "DiNozzo, you and Ziva go search Lieutenant Carver's apartment. Bring back any electronics you find. Then go talk to his CO, find out what he was working on and if was anything that could have gotten him killed." He turned to study his computer expert. "McGee, you watch the rest of this footage. See if you can find out what Lieutenant Carver did during those two hours." He glanced down at his watch to check the time. "I have to talk to Ducky and Abby, then we'll see if we can't track down that bartender."

He paused for a moment before grabbing his cell phone from his desk. Gibbs looked up from the text he was sending to see his team still standing there, staring at him. He had been forced to look to text as a means of keeping in touch with Tori. He didn't like it, but he did what he had to do. "Well?" he barked and sent his team members scrambling to fulfill his orders.

Text sent, he scrolled through his phone's address book to the first number he wanted to call. Without a glance back at McGee, who was the only member of his team still remaining in the squad room, he strode quickly toward the elevator that would take him down to the floor where Ducky's autopsy suite was located.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

"What have you got for me, Duck?" Gibbs strode through the pneumatic doors into autopsy. He glanced over at Jimmy Palmer, who was cleaning instruments at the surgical sink located at the far side of the room, before approaching the corpse laid out on one of the steel tables. Ducky met him there.

"What I have, Gibbs, is a bit of a conundrum," the older man said as he flipped on the overhead lights.

"How so?"

"Dr. Mallard has been unable to determine a cause of death," Jimmy said from the sink. He'd turned to look at the two men, oblivious to the water and soap dripping onto the floor from the ladle he held in his hand. At the glares he received from the two older men, he realized his mistake and quickly placed the ladle back into the sink. "I'll just, ah . . ." he paused, trying to think of a reason to leave the room, "go get a mop to clean this up." He was intimidated by Special Agent Gibbs at the best of times, and it was easy to see just by looking at the man that this wasn't the best of times.

"Duck?" Gibbs questioned as he turned back to the medical examiner.

"While Mr. Palmer could learn to be a bit more circumspect, he was not exactly wrong." Ducky picked up a file from the nearby desk and flipped through its pages. "Lieutenant Carver died from heart failure."

"Heart failure?" Gibbs questioned, slightly surprised. That wasn't exactly what he was expecting to hear. "I thought Palmer said you didn't know the cause of death."

Ducky held a figure up to forestall any further questions. "As I was saying, Lieutenant Carver died from heart failure. But, I have not yet been able to determine the cause of that heart failure. There is no physiological reason for his heart to have stopped beating. Except for some mild congestion in his sinuses and lungs, which I would attribute to seasonal allergies, he was in perfect health."

Gibbs leaned closer to study the Lieutenant's face. Turning to look at Ducky, he said, "a perfectly healthy may doesn't just drop dead of a heart attack. Any guess on what might have caused it?"

"If I had to guess, I would say it was a poison of some kind. I sent tissue samples up to Abby." Ducky laid the file he was holding on the nearby desk and turned back to Gibbs. "There are a number of poisons that could cause heart failure without leaving any other obvious signs in the body. Coniine, for example, destroys the functioning of the central nervous system. It comes from the hemlock plant. Coincidentally," Ducky started to launch into a story, but Gibbs had turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

As the pneumatic doors snapped shut, the medical examiner leaned over Lane Carver's corpse. "You might find this interesting. Did you know that Socrates died after drinking a tea made from the hemlock plant? It contains coniine . . . ."

NCIS NCIS NCIS

Abby glanced down at her cell phone as it emitted the muted scream that indicated she had a text message. She really needed to change it, but the sound just seemed to suit her mood at the moment. Picking up the device, she tapped the message icon, assuming it was something about the case she was working on. Both Palmer and McGee had a tendency to text her information they thought she might need right away rather than waiting for a more formal report. Her eyes grew bigger as she read what McGee had to say.

"Oh, Tori, what were you thinking?" she said as she quickly typed a message back to McGee. She had to know how Gibbs had handled the news.

"She wasn't thinking. That's the problem," Gibbs stated as he strode into her lab just as the mass spectrometer beeped a notification that it had finished its latest analysis. He nodded toward the machine. "What have you got for me?"

"I didn't pick up any trace evidence on the Lieutenant's clothing." Abby said as she quickly slid the cell phone into the pocket of the red and black plaid pants she was wearing. "All of the skin cells and lose hair I found appears to have come from him. I'm still testing, but I don't have much hope of finding anything."

She pulled the test results from the mass spectrometer up on her computer and studied them for a minute before continuing. "Based on his stomach contents, he had been drinking heavily. It looks like his drink of choice was an AK47." She turned to look at Gibbs. "It's a mix of bourbon, brandy, cointreau, gin, lime, rum, soda water, vodka, and whiskey. A couple of those would be enough to knock anybody on their butt," she said, shaking her head in wonder. "Based on these concentrations, he'd had more than a couple. But," she said, pausing for effect, "I don't think that's what caused his heart to stop beating."

"Abbs," Gibbs said with a note of caution in his voice. He was in no mood to deal with her habit of frequently going off topic. "What did cause the heart failure?"

"There's something else here, but I don't know what it is. I need to run it through a couple of databases to find out. It looks like an alkaloid toxin . . . ." Abby's voice trailed off as she concentrated on setting up the search.

"Call me when you get something," Gibbs said, turning to leave the lab. He was standing in front of the elevator when his cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Looking at the caller id on the display screen, he sighed as he flipped it open. "What is it, Abby?"

"I've got something."

Gibbs flipped the phone closed and turned to return to the lab. He stopped when the elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal Ducky. Before he could say anything, Abby appeared in the doorway.

"I called Ducky," she said, answering Gibbs's unasked question. "He needed to see this, too." She moved forward and grabbed both men's hands, pulling them into her lab. "This is so cool," she said quickly. Her excitement over her discovery was evident in both her voice and in her movements. "Well, it's not exciting for Lieutenant Carver. I mean, he'd dead, and that's nothing to be excited about. It's terrible, actually . . . ."

"Abby," Gibbs's stern voice interrupted her babbling. "The results?"

"Oh yeah, I was right. It's an alkaloid toxin. But that's not the exciting part." She turned to her computer, ignoring the glare that Gibbs was directing at her. Tapping a few keys, she pulled an image up onto the wall monitor so the two men could also see it. "It's from phyllobates terribilis."

"A frog?" Gibbs questioned, somewhat skeptically.

"A golden poison dart frog, Gibbs, one of the most toxic animals in the world. It secretes a neurotoxin that prevents the victim's nerves from transmitting impulses, leaving the muscles in an inactive state of contraction."

"Which can lead to heart failure," Ducky said as he moved to stand beside Gibbs. He was starting to see the reason for her enthusiasm.

"Correct, oh wise one," Abby said, with a wide grin for Ducky. The older man nodded in acknowledgement of her appreciation.

"A frog is that poisonous?" Gibbs asked. His patience was starting to wear thin.

"Not poisonous, toxic," Abby corrected just as Ducky opened his mouth to speak. "The golden poison dart frog secretes the toxin through its skin. It's victims come into contact with the toxin when they eat it or just simply touch it," she explained, quickly summarizing the information that appeared on her computer monitor. "Wow, this is some dangerous stuff, Gibbs. One milligram of the toxin is estimated to be enough to kill between ten and twenty humans. He had at least three milligrams of the stuff in his system."

"How did it get in his system?" Gibbs moved so he could look at both of the scientists in the room. He sincerely hoped one of this could answer his question.

"Well, as there were no puncture marks on the body and the toxin was found in the contents of his stomach, I hazard a guess that he ingested it," Ducky stated. "Most likely, it was in one or more of the drinks he consumed."

Gibbs nodded. He had to agree with that assessment. "Where would someone have gotten this frog toxin?" he asked, gesturing in the general direction of the wall monitor, which still showed an image of the frog in question.

"I don't know," Abby stated, shrugging. "It's not very common. The frogs are native to the jungles of western Columbia, but they lose their toxicity after being in captivity for a while."

"Yes," Ducky said in agreement, "but the toxin is very potent. I remember reading something about the indigenous Choco Emberà people. They will soak the tips of their arrows and darts in the toxin, and the weapons stay deadly for up to two years."

The three people fell silent as they realized the import of just what that might mean.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

I pulled my cell phone out of my locker. Under school policy, students were only allowed to have them out before or after school or during lunch. If they caught you with one at any other time, they'd take and keep it until your parents came to get it. Somehow, I don't see Gibbs hurrying to pick mine up if that should happen. My luck, he'd let them keep it until the end of the school year.

Anyway, I turned it on to check for messages. My stomach flipped when I saw that there was one waiting for me from Gibbs. Why did I ever convince him to learn how to text? Yeah, like that would have stopped him. He would have just called and left a message on my voice mail. Taking a deep breath, I opened the text to read it just as Lynn and Tracy appeared at my side. My fear at what I would find there wasn't allayed by the looks on their faces. "Come to NCIS immediately after school. Bring Tracy and Lynn." Oh shit, I thought.

"Do you think he knows?" I asked.

"I don't know, but we both got texts from our parents telling us to report to NCIS," Lynn said as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a gesture she always made when she was worried about something.

"How could they have found out?" Tracy asked.

"I don't know. Gibbs got a call out last night. He didn't say where he was going. You don't think," I paused, swallowing hard. If he'd gotten called to Toxic because something had happened there, he would have had McGee pull recordings from any surveillance cameras. If the cameras picked us up in the club . . . .

"We are so dead," Tracy stated. Lynn and I could only agree.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: You may notice that I changed the rank of the victim in the case Gibbs and his team are working from Petty Officer Lane Carver to Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Lane Carver. My method for writing (fanfiction at least) is to have a general idea where the story is going and let the details come as I write each chapter. I usually end up having to alter some of the details to fit the story. However, this time an idea for this story required me to change a couple of the details, such as the victim's rank, to fit where I've decided to go.

Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. Seems like this time of the year, real life gets crazy with attempting to get holiday crafts finished, rehearsals for the local community orchestra concert, and work. Only this year, I've had to add illness and computer problems to the mix. While I can't guarantee it, I hope to get the next chapter posted in a more timely fashion.

Now all of that is out of the way . . . .

**CHAPTER 3**

"Guy's a slob," Tony said as he looked around the messy living area of Lieutenant Lane Carver's off-base apartment near naval base Oceana. He and Ziva had been given the assignment of searching the lieutenant's quarters and interviewing his commanding officer

"How does someone live like this?" Ziva questioned, disgust evident in her voice. She picked up a rock climbing harness and helmet that had been tossed onto the sofa. Since Abby and Ducky had determined that Lieutenant Carver had ingested the frog toxin in his drink, they wouldn't be required to bag everything and take it into evidence. Of that, she was profoundly thankful. Otherwise, they might be in this pig sty for days.

"Looks like the Lieutenant was a bit of an adrenaline junky." Tony held up a brochure for base jumping in the New River Gorge. The table in front of him was covered in stacks of paper, brochures, and magazines. A laptop computer sat in the middle of the mess. "There's also information on hang gliding, skydiving, and parasailing," he said as he sorted through one of the stacks.

Ziva moved to stand beside her partner so she could look at the brochures and papers herself. "You would think he got enough excitement as a naval aviator," she said as she picked up a stack of paper and began rifling through it. Most of it was email communications regarding an upcoming base jumping trip.

"According to McGee, he'd only been back from his fourth tour in the Gulf for about a month. Could be he was trying to recapture some of the adrenaline high he might have experienced while over there. I've heard it can get pretty intense," Tony commented as he moved to the kitchen counter. The flat surface was covered with mail. As he sifted through it, he came across a padded envelope. One end of the envelope had been ripped open with the pull tab hanging off to the side. "Where did Abby say that toxin was from?"

"Columbia," Ziva replied as she picked up the laptop and slipped it into an evidence envelope. It would be McGee's job to go through the machine for any clues about the lieutenant's death. Finished with the task, she turned to look at Tony. "Why?"

He held up the envelope. "It has a Columbian return address and postage." He went to where he'd left his bag by the front door and pulled out an evidence bag.

* * *

McGee felt like a puppy trailing after its master as he followed Gibbs toward the front door of Toxic. The older man had been even more taciturn than usual on the drive from the Navy Yard. Tim was sure they would find the answer to Lieutenant Carver's death on the security videos, but Gibbs had been too anxious to talk to the people at the night club to wait for him to continue reviewing them. He had a pretty good feeling that Gibbs's intentions, at least in part, were as much, if not more, personal than professional.

They were met at the door of the club by Rodrick Malloy, the manager. When he ushered him into the brightly lit building, McGee couldn't help but think how different the interior of the club looked during the day.

"Special Agent Gibbs, McGee, I've called in everyone who was on duty last night. They're not happy about being here, as most of them are usually still asleep at this time of day, but they will cooperate with you."

The two agents nodded and headed toward the bar, where a dozen people were standing or sitting on stools. Most had cups of steaming coffee in their hands, while a few held bottles of water or soft drinks.

"What's this about?" a tall, blonde haired woman asked as they approached.

McGee recognized her as the bartender in the video surveillance he'd watched. He glanced over at his boss, waiting to see whether Rule No. 1 applied in this situation. He wasn't sure yet whether these people were witnesses or suspects.

"We're here to find out what you know about the death of Lieutenant Lane Carver," Gibbs stated as he opened the manila folder he held and withdrew a photo of the Lieutenant. He placed it on the bar and gestured for everyone to look at it. "Anybody recognize him?"

"Yeah," said the blonde woman. "He was here last night. I fixed a couple of drinks for him here at the bar – AK47's. I think he took the last drink and wandered through the crowd. I don't recall seeing him after that."

"I waited on him and about four or five other guys at a table. That must have been after he left the bar." The young woman who responded was leaning against the bar, drinking from a bottle of Coke. Gibbs judged her to be in her early twenties, probably barely old enough to work in the club.

"Tell me," he ordered, not bothering to clarify what he wanted her to talk about. Apparently, the young woman understood what he meant. "They started out with a pitcher of beer. When they finished with that, they wouldn't let me take the empty pitcher. Instead, they began ordering two shots of tequila each. I couldn't tell what they were doing, but it looked like they were drinking one shot and pouring the other in the empty beer pitcher. I guess they ordered a total of six rounds. I didn't see this guy leave the table, but one of the others paid the tab and they all left. I guess that was around midnight. I came back from my break and they were gone."

"You didn't think that was a bit strange?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah, but strange is a regular occurrence around here."

"Where was their table located?" McGee asked. That would give him some idea of where to look when he resumed watching the surveillance videos. His instincts, while not quite as honed as Special Agent Gibbs's, were telling him that the answers would be found there.

"Back to the right," the young woman stated, gesturing in that direction. Near the emergency exit."

Gibbs shared a look with McGee before turning back to the people at the bar. "Which one of you handled security on the door last night?"

A tall, muscled man who had the look of ex-military stepped forward. "That would be me. What's that got to do with what happened to that lieutenant?"

"Nothing," Gibbs stated, moving to stand in front of him. "I want to know what you were doing letting three underage girls into this club last night."

"Come again?" the other man asked at the same time Malloy demanded to know that Gibbs was talking about.

"I'm talking about the fact that my teenage daughter and two of her friends were spotted dancing right over there," Gibbs gestured in the vague direction of the dance floor, "on the surveillance footage."

"I check the ID's of everyone who comes through those doors. Either they had ID's that said they were twenty-one or they snuck in. If they had fake ID's, they were really good. I can spot a fake a mile away."

"Uh huh," Gibbs stated skeptically. "I'd review your security procedures if I were you."

* * *

"Report," Gibbs demanded as he strode into the bullpen. Tony and Ziva were at their desks, where they both appeared to be working at the moment. McGee had been sent down to Abby's lab to finish reviewing the surveillance footage and to prepare something for the planned afternoon meeting between Tori and her friends and their parents.

"We've determined that Lieutenant Carver obtained the golden poison dart frog toxin," Ziva stated as she consulted her notes to make sure she got the name of the amphibian correct. "We found an envelope in his apartment with a Columbian return address. It just happens to be for a business suspected of smuggling illegal substances into the US."

Tony stood and walked around to lean on the front of his desk. "We also talked to the lieutenant's commanding officer. Apparently the lieutenant was an adrenaline junky. He was a naval aviator. His file showed that he was disciplined several times for taking unnecessary risks and for putting others in danger. The last sanction came days before he returned to the US from his last tour in the Gulf. He pulled a Maverick and did a fly-by of the bridge." Tony grinned at his _Topgun _reference. He started to wonder out loud if Carver had caused anyone to spill their coffee, but the look on Gibbs's face caused him to reconsider.

"We've got a witness at the club who puts Carver there with five other men. Did you find anything on his computer or in his apartment to indicate who he might be meeting?"

"Nothing obvious, Boss," Tony said.

"We brought his electronics back for Abby and McGee," Ziva interrupted. "Maybe they will find something."

* * *

It was almost 3:30 when I walked into the bullpen at NCIS with Tracy and Lynn trailing behind me. I'd been there so often, the guards at the front desk no longer bothered to escort me up to the squad room. They just hand me my visitor badge and wave me on. Since Tracy and Lynn were with me, they got the same treatment – after having to go through the metal detectors and showing their ID's.

"Hey, Tony," I said cheerfully as I approached his desk. I was nervous about what was going to happen, but I'd decided on the drive over from school that I wasn't going to show it. Cocky was better than scared, at least in my opinion.

Tony looked up from his computer, and I got a good look at his face. I've never seen him look that stern. Usually he's my fun-loving "older brother", but not today. "What's up?" I asked cautiously.

"Gibbs is waiting for you and your friends in the conference room. Do you know where it is, or do I need to take you there?"

"Yeah, I know where it is." I studied his face for a moment. "What's with you, Tony?"

"I would curb the attitude if I were you, Victoria."

Victoria? Shit, that was never a good sign.

"You want to know what's with me?" he asked as he came around his desk to stand, towering over me. "The three of you have no idea how trouble you could have gotten into last night." He gave all of us a hard look. "But I'm sure Gibbs is going to discuss that in great detail. Now, I suggest you don't keep him waiting any longer. Especially since you're already half an hour late."

The door to the conference room was closed. I shared a look with Tracy and Lynn before rapping softly on it. They must have been expecting on us, because it was opened within seconds. I was surprised to see McGee standing on the other side. He stepped aside to let us enter just as I heard Gibbs order us to come in and sit down.

Gibbs and Lynn's and Tracy's parents were already seated at the table. I reluctantly met Gibbs's gaze. "Sit," he ordered again, nodding toward the three chairs remaining at the near end of the table.

As soon as we were seated, he leaned back in his chair like he didn't have a care in the world. "You want to tell us again where you were last night?"

"We were at the movies," Tracy said before I had a chance to speak. I didn't have to be told that Gibbs already knew I'd lied to him last night. Why else would we have been called here. I kicked Tracy's leg under the table and glared at her/

"What?" she demanded. I tried to convey to her just how much of an idiot she was without actually coming out and saying it.

"Really?" Gibbs questioned, his tone of voice sounding completely ice cold. Yeah, we were definitely in for it – or at least I was. "McGee."

I watched as McGee slid a disc into the DVD player and turned on the television. The bottom dropped out of my stomach as I watched the image of me and my friends dancing. Although there was no sound to the video, I could still hear the pounding beat of the music that had been played by Toxic's DJ. The live music hadn't started until after we'd left. The date and time stamp on the video was ten o'clock last night.

"You going to try and tell me that isn't you?"

"No, sir," I immediately answered. I was unable to meet his glare. Instead, I watched as McGee ejected the disc and left the room. The silence in the room was nearly deafening.

"Whose idea was it to go to that club?" Tracy's father finally asked.

"We sort of came up with the idea together," I said before either Tracy or Lynn could answer. It had really been Lynn's idea, but I wasn't about to throw my friends to the wolves. Besides, it didn't matter whose idea it'd been, we'd all agreed. So, really, we were all just as guilty.

"Is that so?"

Shit. Gibbs must have read something in one of our faces, because I could tell he didn't believe me. That was just great, the offenses just kept piling up. The way I'm going I'm not going to be able to sit down for a month when he gets finished with me. Yeah, I have no doubt what he's got planned for me. Let's face it, I knew last night what was likely to happen, but I went anyway.

"Lynn?" her mother asked, doubt about her daughter's guilt evident in her voice. I couldn't tell if she was doubting whether Lynn had actually gone to the club or whether we'd all come up with the idea together. Damn if Lynn didn't look like she thought she was going to get away Scott free.

Gibbs, however, had no doubt as to our guilt. "Where'd you get the fake ID's?" he asked, seemingly out of the blue. Damn, the man managed to find out everything.

"What fake ID's?" Lynn's father asked.

"The ones the bouncer told me they used to get into Toxic," Gibbs stated in response, never taking his eyes off the three of us. "Answer my question."

I glanced at my friends, trying to determine how they intended to respond. However, Gibbs was even more impatient than usual. "Victoria?" he demanded. I knew I couldn't remain silent any longer.

"We got them from someone we know at school."

Gibbs nodded. "You will provide me with that person's name and contact information." I nodded in response, ignoring Tracy's and Lynn's shocked gasps. They might not have reason to spill the information, but I was in enough trouble already. Refusing to respond to a direct question from Gibbs on top of everything else was enough to earn me a death sentence. I definitely wasn't going there.

"Turn them over," he commanded, holding out his hand. I grabbed my bag from the floor and unzipped it. "Take my advice," I said quietly enough that only Lynn and Tracy heard me. "Do what he says. It'll only be worse if you don't." I pulled my fake ID out of my wallet and slid it down the table. Gibbs's face hardened as he looked at it. It was a really good one. You'd have to look really closely to see that it wasn't a real Virginia driver's license.

"Tracy," her father stated when he realized she wasn't moving to retrieve her ID. "I believe Special Agent Gibbs gave you an order. Unless you want me to take a page out of his book, I suggest you do as he said."

Tracy glared at me, but she retrieved her ID and, like I had done, slid it down the table to Gibbs. I couldn't help but feel resentful when Lynn's parents didn't call her on her refusal to turn her ID over to Gibbs.

Tracy's father stood and held out his hand to his wife. After helping her to her feet, he turned to Gibbs. "Thank you, Special Agent Gibbs. I think we've seen and heard all we need to." As if they, too, understood the meeting was over, Lynn's parents stood as well.

Gibbs nodded in acknowledgement. "I'll get someone to escort you and your daughters out," he said as he rounded the table. I remained seated, since that was something I'm sure I won't want to do in the near future.

It seemed like only seconds passed before Gibbs returned to the conference room. I couldn't help but wonder is he intended to punish me here or wait until we got home. I had no doubt that everyone on his team knew exactly what he had planned. But, it was one thing for them to know, and other for them to witness me getting my ass blistered.

Gibbs studied me for a moment before speaking. I started squirming in my seat until he finally spoke. "Go home and wait for me in your room. We will deal with this when I get there."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: This chapter contains corporal punishment of a teenager. If that offends you, please do not read it.

CHAPTER 4

Gibbs sighed heavily as he let himself in the front door of his home. He tossed his keys into the bowl that had been placed on a table in the entry hall for that purpose. Pausing, he listened for any noise made by Tori. He knew she was home, as her car had been parked in the driveway. Given the circumstances, Gibbs had no doubt that Tori had obeyed him and had gone straight up to her room when she'd gotten home.

After securing his firearm in the lockbox kept on a bookshelf in the living room, Gibbs made his way to the basement. There was something he needed from there. During his drive home, he'd thought about whether or not he actually wanted to use it. Finally, he'd come to the decision that he needed to make an unforgettable impression on Tori.

XxxxxxxxX

I knew the minute Gibbs got home. I hate waiting normally, and somehow waiting for him to get home was even worse. Don't get me wrong, I know Gibbs is going to blister my ass. I'm definitely not looking forward to that, but I'd rather just get it over with. It couldn't be any worse than the wait.

I rethought that last bit when Gibbs entered my bedroom. I paused in my pacing and turned to face him, nearly swallowing my tongue when I spotted the wooden paddle he held in his hand. He'd only used his belt on me a couple of times, but I had no doubt this paddle would be much worse.

"Gibbs, I can explain," I started to say, but he quickly interrupted me.

"Go ahead," he said, as he moved into the room and laid the paddle on my desk. "I'd love to hear your explanation as to why you lied to me not once, but at least three times by my count, and for breaking the law by getting a fake ID and using it to gain entry into a night club." He pulled my desk chair out and sat down, facing into the room.

I just hung my head in response, knowing that there was no explanation that would be sufficient to get me out of what was about to happen. "I'm sorry."

"And you're going to be a hell of a lot sorrier when I'm finished with you," Gibbs stated. "Do I even have to tell you how much trouble you're in or why I'm going to paddle you?"

"No sir," I said, barely audible.

Gibbs nodded. "Come here."

I dragged my feet as I crossed the room to him. Suddenly, I wished that I'd changed out of the skirt I'd worn to school. But, somehow I don't think that would have made a different. My suspicions were confirmed when I was lying face down across his lap. He folded my skirt up until it was above my hips, leaving only my thin cotton panties covering my ass. I could feel the pressure of his hand on the small of my back as he prepared to hold me in place.

"I am very disappointed in you, Victoria. I had thought we'd gotten to the point where I could trust you. You have abused that trust with your behavior, and you placed yourself in danger."

I was already crying before the first swat even landed. Gibbs was right; I'd abused his trust in me. I'd worked hard to earn that trust and had destroyed it, all for an evening of fun. It didn't help that I had already come to the conclude that I deserved what I was about to receive.

Gibbs didn't keep me waiting for long. I squealed when he started raining stinging swats down on my ass. My panties offered almost no protection from his hard hand. It had been a long time since he'd spanked me, and I'd forgotten how much it hurts. When I instinctively reached back to protect myself from the onslaught, he didn't even miss a beat when he grabbed my hand and held it at the small of my back. By the time he stopped spanking me, I was lying limp over his lap, alternately apologizing and promising that I'd never do anything wrong again. I'm not sure Gibbs understood what I was saying because I was crying so hard. This had to be the hardest spanking he'd ever given me, and I knew it wasn't over yet.

Gibbs waited until I got myself back under control then helped me stand. He stood as well and reached for the paddle. "Bend over and brace your hand on the seat," he said, gesturing to the chair with the paddle.

"When I made this paddle, I'd hoped I'd never have to use it, and I don't want to use it now." Then don't, I wanted to say, but I wisely stayed silent. "However," he continued, "I need to do something to get through to you. You do not break the law by getting a fake ID." I yelled as five hard swats landed on my already sore ass. "You do not break the law or put yourself in danger by using that fake ID to gain entry into a club." Five more hard swats landed. "And you do not lie to me." This time, ten swats landed – the last five on the tender area where my thighs meet the bottom of my ass.

I swear I didn't think I'd ever sit again. My ass felt like all the fires of Hell had taken up residence there. It took me several seconds to realize that Gibbs had placed the paddle back on the desk and had lowered my skirt back into place. He helped me stand and hugged me close as I cried on his chest.

"It's over," he said as he rubbed my back. "Everything is forgiven."

I stepped back out his arms and wiped the tears from my cheeks. Resisting the urge to rub my ass, I asked, "does that mean you aren't going to ground me?"

Gibbs gave me a hard glare. "You were already grounded when I gave you permission to go out last night. That punishment is still in effect. Only, now you are to report to NCIS after school every day for the next two weeks instead of coming home." It wasn't anything I hadn't expected. I was just glad he wasn't going to add to the punishment he'd already given me tonight.

"Yes, sir," I responded.

"Dinner should be ready in about an hour," he said as he turned to leave the room. I started to say that I wasn't hungry, but the look he gave me clearly said that he expected me at the table, regardless of the fact that sitting on the hard seat of the dining room chair would be agony. Again, I answered, "yes, sir."

I didn't notice until he'd left and I'd crawled stomach-down into my bed that he'd left the paddle lying on the desk. I wondered if he'd notice if I burned the thing and entertained myself with the thought as I drifted off to sleep.

XxxxxxxxX

The next morning, Gibbs strode into Abby's lab to find both the forensic scientist and McGee running facial recognition searches on the five other men who had been seen on the surveillance footage sitting at the same table with Lieutenant Carver.

"What've you got?" he asked as he handed a cup of coffee to McGee and a large Caff-Pow to Abby.

"We've identified three of the five men," McGee stated, but was interrupted by a ding from the computer.

"Make that four of the five," Abby stated as she set up the run on the final suspect. That finished, she pointed to the computer screen which displaced the results of the previous four runs. "Meet Ensign Michael Malloy, Petty Officer John Bowling, Chief Petty Officer Steven Adams, and Ensign William Olson. And . . . " she paused when the final search spit out a result. "Petty Officer Joshua Vallance."

"All five of them served in flight crews on the same air craft carrier as Lieutenant Carver," McGee stated as he reviewed the information supplied by the computer. "Somehow I don't think that's a coincidence."

"Send the information up to Tony and Ziva," Gibbs ordered as he pulled out his cell phone. "McGee's identified the five men with Carver. Get them in here." Gibbs paused as he listened to the person on the other end of the call. "I don't care how you do it, just get it done. Don't tell them the real reason you're calling them in."

"See if you can find any emails or texts or whatever connecting these men to Carver. They had to make plans for the other night," Gibbs ordered before he turned and strode out of the room.

XxxxxxxxX

"Tori."

I turned at the sound of my name and saw Tracy making her way through the crowded hallway toward me. I wondered if I was imagining things, but it looked like she was walking a bit stiffly. I couldn't help but think it looked like her dad had made good on his threat to take a page out of Gibbs's book.

"You okay?" I asked as she got near enough to hear me.

"A bit sore," Tracy said, as she reached back to rub her ass. "How 'bout you?"

"The same," I said as I pulled the books I'd need for my first two classes out of my locker.

"Did Gibbs ground you, too?"

I shrugged. "No, but I was already grounded for smarting off to him. He gave me special permission to go out the other night. I think it was a bit of a test."

"Ouch," Tracy winced in sympathy.

"Yeah, he tightened the restrictions, and I have a feeling he's going to be watching me like one of his suspects for a while."

Any further discussion of our shared misery was interrupted when Lynn came bouncing up to locker. "What's up, Chicas?" she asked, her voice irritatingly perky. "Hey," she continued, not even noticing that neither Tracy nor I had responded. "I heard about this great new hangout spot. You want to check it out with me this weekend?"

Tracy and I shared a look before I asked, "didn't you get in trouble for the other night?"

Lynn laughed. "Yeah, I got some lame ass lecture about not breaking the law, and my dad took my I-Pod away. Like I really care about that," she gave a snort.

The ringing of the warning bell for the beginning of first period prevented me from saying anything further. Lynn's first class was in the opposite end of the building, while Tracy and I both had biology. As we headed toward our classroom, she and I continued to talk.

"I can't believe she got away with it," Tracy groused.

"Yeah, it was all her idea and we both ended up getting our asses roasted." I paused, considering my next words. "I'm starting to rethink my friendship with her," I said quietly. I wasn't sure Tracy had heard me, but she responded, "yeah, me too."

"I don't think my ass can handle another encounter with Gibbs like last night," I said with a laugh, trying to lighten the gloomy mood that had settled over us.

Tracy laughed, just as I'd hoped. "Mine either."

XxxxxxxxX

Gibbs strode into the bullpen later that afternoon. "What do you have for me?" he demanded from Tony and Ziva, who were working at their desks.

"We have contacted the supplier of the frog toxin. He confirmed that Lieutenant Carver was the one who purchased it," Ziva stated.

"Based on the date of purchase," Tony interrupted, "it took at least three weeks for it to be delivered. Carver and his buddies had to have planned this."

"Whatever this is," Gibbs stated. "Did you contact the five men Abby and McGee identified?"

"Yeah," Tony said as he checked his watch. "They should be here any time."

"What reason did you give for them needing to come in?"

"We told them we were investigating something that happened during their last deployment," Ziva responded. "However, we did not give any specific information."

Gibbs nodded just as Tony muttered, "show time." Gibbs looked over and saw five men being escorted into the squad room by a NCIS security officer. "How do you want to handle this?" Tony asked, turning to Gibbs.

"Put them all in the conference room to start. We'll pull them into interrogation individually and keep them separated afterwards."

"Can you tell us what this about?" one of the men asked as they neared the bullpen.

"You are?" Gibbs asked in response.

"Ensign William Olson," he said by way of introduction. He nodded at his fellow sailors and continued, "we're here as ordered, but nobody has told us why."

Gibbs nodded and turned to the security officer. "Thanks, Carl, we can take it from here."

"Yes, sir," Carl responded. He started to leave the group, but turned back to Gibbs. "Thanks for recommending that restaurant. My wife loved it."

Gibbs grinned. "Glad to hear that." Sobering, he turned back to the five men who were watching him intently.

"You are here because we believe you may have information that pertains to one of our investigations."

"Which investigation would that be?" Ensign Olson asked. "None of us can think of anything that happened during our last deployment that would warrant NCIS involvement."

"We'll get into that," Gibbs responded. "Right now, I'm going to have Agent David escort you to a conference room. We will be speaking to each of you individually." Gibbs nodded to Ziva, who rose from her desk.

"Follow me," she directed as she headed in the direction of the conference room.

XxxxxxxxX

"You want to tell me what's going on?" Petty Officer John Bowling asked as Gibbs entered the interrogation room.

Gibbs didn't reply until he had dropped a folder onto the table and taken a seat across from the other man. "We're investigating a murder."

"Murder? Nobody was murdered during our deployment."

"I never said they were," Gibbs responded. He leaned forward to rest his hands on the table on either side of the file folder. "You're here because you have pertinent information regarding the death of Lieutenant Junior Grade Lance Carver."

"Carver?" Bowling said in surprise. "What the hell are you talking about? Carver's alive, or at least he was when I saw him two nights ago."

"Where did you last see Lieutenant Carver?"

"At a night club called Toxic. We all met there for drinks. Carver left before I did." Bowling shrugged. "I thought he'd gotten lucky."

Next door, Tony was interviewing Ensign Michael Malloy. "So, you want to tell me about the drinking game you were playing at Toxic the other night?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was at Toxic with the guys, but we weren't playing any drinking game. What's that got to do with anything?" Malloy demanded.

"Well," Tony said as he turned to nod to the mirrored wall, indicating that the technician was to play the surveillance video from the club. It showed the waitress delivering eight shots of whiskey to the table. After she left, four of the men averted their eyes while Malloy placed a drop of something into one of the shots and randomly mixed up the shot glasses. At Tony's signal, the video stopped.

"You going to tell me that was some harmless substance that you put in that drink, Malloy?" Tony questioned. "Because I don't think it was."

In the other interrogation room, Gibbs's intimidating manner had paid off. Petty Officer Bowling was ready to talk.

"It was all Carver's idea," he said. "He supplied the vial and picked the location, said the name was rather fitting for what we were going to do."

"What was in the vial?" Gibbs demanded.

"I don't know. Carver wouldn't tell us. He just said that if we drank it, it would just make us sick."

"You didn't know what was in that vial, but you took a chance with it anyway. Did I hear you correctly, sailor."

"Yes, sir."

Gibbs mutter something about idiots and luck before continuing. "Tell me about the drinking game. What were the rules?"

Bowling sighed. He knew he was in over his head and didn't know how to dig his way out. The only path he could see was coming clean about everything. "You gotta understand, sir, Carver was an adrenaline junky. Nothing was too dangerous for him, and he was starting to get bored. He came up with this game and talked us all into playing it. He called it whiskey roulette – you know, instead of Russian roulette."

"The name didn't clue you into what he had planned?" Gibbs asked skeptically.

"No, sir. Like I said, he promised that what we used wouldn't kill us. Rather, it would just make us sick." Bowling sighed heavily. "We'd order eight shots of whisky – two for each of us. The fifth person wouldn't drink. Rather, he'd add one drop of whatever was in the vial to one of the drinks and mix them up while we looked away. After he was done, each of the four of us would pick one glass and shoot the contents. The contents of the remaining glasses would be emptied into the beer pitcher so nobody'd drink them by accident. We'd wait a few minutes to see if anybody got sick. If they didn't , we'd play another round." He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. "I guess we played three rounds before Carver got up to leave the table. He said he had to go to the head. I was pretty wasted by that time, so I didn't notice he hadn't come back to the table."

Gibbs stood and leaned across the table until his face was only inches away from Petty Officer Bowling's. "Do you want to know what was in that vial, Petty Officer?" Gibbs didn't give him a chance to respond before continuing. "It was poison dart frog toxin. It's so deadly that one drop is enough to kill twenty men."

Gibbs stepped back as the petty officer's face blanched and he rushed to the trash can in the corner of the room and vomited. He waited until the other man was seated back at the table before continuing. "Who spiked the last round?"

"It was Adams, sir."

Gibbs nodded as he picked up the file folder and strode from the room. He was slightly surprised to see Tony leaning against the wall, but his face didn't show it.

"You know," Tony said after they'd compared notes from their respective interrogations. "I've seen some pretty stupid causes of death, but this has got to be at the top of the list. I mean, who plays roulette with a deadly toxin?"

"Apparently, these five idiots," Gibbs stated.

"How are we going to handle it? After all, from the sound of it, Carver was the instigator of the whole thing."

"I'm going to arrest Adams for murder and let JAG and the SecNav sort it out. I figure they'll probably want to prosecute him for involuntary manslaughter." Gibbs shrugged. "The others will probably be dishonorably discharged."

THE END


End file.
